


Kirkwall's Red Jenny

by dragonyfox



Series: Bait and Switch [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:31:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonyfox/pseuds/dragonyfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know what?  Leaving aside party gender balance issues, DA continuity might just have been better off if Fenris and Sera switched places."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fic came about because of this post and i couldnt get the idea out of my head http://championshepard.tumblr.com/post/111487637834/becausedragonage-aubergion-friend-of-red-jenny

Hawke nearly jumped out of his skin when the arrow landed at his feet.

"Maker's breath!" Varric yelped, scrambling for Bianca, "what was that!?"

"I don't know, and I'm not sure I like it," Hawke replied.

He leaned down to examine the arrow. There was something tied around the-

Looking away, Hawke tried to stifle his laughter. It was a stupid joke, and more suited for Isabela than poor Varric. But then he looked back at the arrow, and he couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling out.

"Hawke…?" Varric asked, wary of his sudden burst of laughter.

"There’s a- a note!" Hawke managed, "around the-"

Varric groaned, and put his hand on his face. "Maker's tits, Hawke, you're worse than Rivaini!"

\--

_People say you're special. I want to help, and I can bring everyone._

_There's a baddie in Hightown. I hear he wants to hurt you. Have a search for the red things in Darktown, the docks, and 'round the Chantry, and maybe you'll meet him first. Bring swords._

_Friends of Red Jenny_

 

\--

"Everyone will be so grateful to me for ridding this city of a filthy dog-lord!" the obnoxious noble crowed, "Soon everyone will revere the name-"

A voice shouted into the courtyard, "Just say 'what'!"

The noble spun around, searching for the voice. "What is the meaning of-"

An arrow slid into his throat and he dropped with a gurgle.

Varric whistled. "Nice shot."

A lithe, blonde elf woman dropped down from a roof. "There’s more comin', but don't worry- they ain't got no breeches!"

Hawke let out a strangled laugh. "No breeches?"

The woman grinned. "Yeah, one of this doofus' servants told us where his men kept their gear, so I nabbed their breeches!"

Varric and Aveline groaned as Hawke's laughter echoed in the small courtyard.

"Maker preserve me," Varric muttered, reloading Bianca, "I'm surrounded by people with terrible senses of humor."

Sure enough, however, the men who flooded into the courtyard to attack them weren't wearing breeches. Hawke howled with laughter the entire fight, and once everyone was dead, he had to sit down to catch his breath.

"C'mon, you big weakling!" the blonde woman chided him, "you just ran around smacking people with that big stick of yours! You can't be out of breath from that!"

"No breeches," Hawke explained, laughing again.

She giggled along with him.

"Hawke," Aveline said, bringing his attention to her, "is this woman one of your strays?"

"Aveline," Hawke replied in kind, "I think you sometimes forget that _you're_ one of my strays. And no, all I know about her is that she's the one who dropped clues that led us here."

"Into a trap," Aveline corrected sourly.

The elf woman protested, "Hey! I rigged this in your favor!"

"Alright, alright, break it up ladies," Varric interrupted, "Can we get your name serah?"

She snorted. "That’s funny, actually! Serah Sera, that's me!"

Hawke thrust his hand out for her to shake, "hello, Serah Sera!"

She shook his hand readily. "Hello, Serah Hawke!"

"You said you wanted to help me?" Hawke asked, putting on his serious face. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Well, yeah. I mean, you got that magey Healer in Darktown under your wing, and you've been clearing out those nasty slaver prickfaces, and I also heard you ain't been taking shite from the Coterie. You're helping the little people, whether you know it or not."

"I am?" Hawke asked, a little confused, "I thought I was just helping people."

She waved her hand dismissively, "yeah, yeah, people are people, blah, blah, blah, but the big people have lots of other big people to care about them. You care about the little people when the bigger people would ignore them. I wanna make sure you don’t forget to help them."

"What do you mean, 'the little people'?" Varric asked.

"You know," Sera drawled, waving her hand again, "the little people. Servants, couriers, refugees. I seen you down in the clinic, and donating to that Ferelden lady helping her people, and I seen you help out about the Alienage."

"So…" Hawke drawled, "You want to tag along with me and my friends to make sure I don’t forget to do things I'm already doing?"

She rocked back and forth on her feet. "Yep!"

Hawke shrugged. "Alright. Welcome to the flock, Serah Sera."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapters a ton of scene-setting bullshit, but next chapter should be in the deep roads, so...

Hawke liked Sera. She was odd, but she fit in with his merry band of misfits because of her oddness.

Of course, she also fit in because she was a crack shot. She claimed nobody taught her to shoot, and yet he'd seen her take out a tal-vashoth's eye from a hundred yards away.

It drove Varric crazy.

"I don't know what to tell you, dwarf," she snarled, "I can’t teach ya! It's natural to me, yeah?"

"But I need to know! For the story, Sera!"

Sera sighed heavily. "Look, I really don't know!! I just picked it up, started shooting! I mean, I had t' practice to get as good as I am but nobody taught me anythin'!"

Really, for all that Sera complained about working with snobs (Aveline) and crazies (everyone else), the only one of Hawke's friends that she _actively_ disliked was Merrill.

The door to the bar opened, and- as if the mere thought of her summoned her- Merrill entered, skipping up to their table.

"Hullo Hawke!" she chirped, dropping into the empty seat by Varric.

Sera stiffened, and stood up. "Ya know what, I'll talk to you later, Varric. I got shit to do somewhere else."

"Oh," Merrill said to Hawke as Sera passed her, "I don't think she likes me very much…"

Varric coughed on his ale.

Hawke patted her back gently. "It’s alright Merrill. You can't win everyone over with your eccentric charm."

Merrill sighed. "I suppose that's true, but it's still sad that one of your friends hates me…"

"She doesn't hate you Merrill-" Hawke started.

"Oh, no," Carver interrupted, "she hates you. But who cares what she thinks? She doesn't know what she's missing."

Hawke knew his brother's flirting voice, and stood up. "And that's my cue to leave!"

\--

"Hawke."

He jumped. "Sera! Andraste's tits, quit sneaking up on me!"

She snickered. "Yeah, but it's funny. And speaking of funny, let's play a prank on your brother. He's getting' awful big for his britches recently, yeah?"

Hawke's eyes gleamed. "Prank him, you say? Tell me more…"

"Well, you know that trick you got where you can make people see shit that ain't there?"

"Glamors, yeah, they're simple, if rather difficult to hold. Why?"

Sera grinned. "Well…."

\--

Hawke struggled to keep a straight face when his brother entered the tavern.

Varric, on the other hand, had no idea what Hawke and Sera had done. When he saw Carver, he was in the middle of taking a drink, and laughed into his mug.

"Junior, you uh," he swiped at his own cheek, "you got a little something right here."

Carver frowned. "What?"

Varric tapped his cheek again where the drawing was.

"Oh," Carver said, and scrubbed at his own cheek for a minute. "Did I get it?"

Isabela approached the table then, and exclaimed, "Maker's hairy balls, Carver! Why have you got a dick on your face?"

Carver froze, and pointed to the metal mug in her hand. "Give me that."

Isabela handed it over, and Carver brought it up to his face.

He frowned. "There’s nothing there, Isabela. Are you having me on?"

"What? No, it's literally right here," Isabela said, leaning over the table and poking Carver’s cheek right at the tip of the dick.

Carver looked at the mug again. "There’s nothing there!"

Hawke let out a strangled laugh.

Slowly, Carver set down the mug, and turned to him. "Brother… you take the glamor off this fucking instant or I will smother you in your sleep."

"I can't!" Hawke laughed, "I didn't put a glamor on anything!"

"Don’t lie to me!"

"I swear!" Hawke insisted, not even bothering to fight his grin, "my glamors are shit! You've seen them! They don't last that long, and the last time I saw your ugly mug, it was early morning!"

Carver scowled.

Hawke held his hands out innocently.

"You two," Carver snarled, pointing at Varric and Isabela, "are assholes. I'm going to Merrill's place. At least she's nice to me!"

As he was leaving he pulled a small, red scarf from his pocket, and tied it over his face.

The minute as the door closed, Hawke slumped into his chair. "Maker's breath, that was harder than I thought it'd be!"

Varric chuckled and started scribbling away at a piece of parchment.

"So…" Isabela drawled, "You really did have a glamor spell on him?"

Hawke nodded against the table. "Only while he was holding the mug though. Even so, that was really hard. I should work on that trick."

"He’s going to come back here and kill you when Merrill tells him he really does have a dick on his face, you know," Isabela said idly.

"Oh, I know. I'm leaving in a minute. Sera and I have more pranks to plan."

Varric chuckled. "Tell me about any that I don't get to see. These are going straight into one of my books, as soon as I figure out a place to put them."

Sera slunk into the tavern moments later. "So, did he believe you?"

"Yes he did," Hawke answered without picking his head up.

"Yes!" Sera crowed, "Now, what should we do next…?"


	3. Chapter 3

Standing with the rest of the small expedition crew while they packed up the carts, Hawke was assuring his mother that Carver would be staying home with her.

"Varric and I are taking Sera and Anders," he explained, "there isn't enough room for him, so you won't have to worry."

"You can't leave me here!" Carver insisted loudly. "I'm your brother! I helped you get the money together, I get to go too!"

Hawke groaned. "Look, Carver, first off, mother will have my head if I take you into the Deep Roads-"

"Yes, I will," their mother interrupted.

"And second," Hawke continued without acknowledging her words, "do you really want to be trapped underground with both me and Sera?"

Carver paused.

"The answer is no, you don't." Hawke kissed his mother's cheek. "We should be back in a few weeks, and if we're lucky, we'll bring home enough money to get a proper house."

"I love you and be careful," she ordered.

"I love you too mother, and this is me you're talking about! I'm always careful."

\--

"Is that… Lyrium?"

"It’s certainly magic," Anders replied, "and not the good kind."

"Hey, Bartrand!" Varric called behind him, "check this out! An idol made out of pure lyrium, I think! Could be worth a fortune."

Bartrand whistled. "Excellent find."

Hesitantly, Hawke reached for the idol, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Nothing happened.

He picked the idol up, and handed it to Varric.

"Not bad," Varric said, examining it appreciatively, "let's see if there's anything else further in."

He tossed the idol down to Bartrand, who caught it easily.

"Yeah, you do that…"

Sera and Hawke began cheerily bickering about what they'd find in the next room over. Hawke insisted that there would be a dragon protecting its treasure.

Varric agreed with Sera. "Hawke, she's right, we already fought a dragon! It'll probably be a pile of gold at the end of a path full of deepstalker-"

A creaking sound startled them from their friendly argument.

"The door!" Hawke shouted, and bolted for it, his companions at his heel.

It slammed shut just as Hawke skid to a halt in front of it.

"Bartrand!" Varric shouted through the thick door, "It’s shut behind you!"

Bartrand's reply was muffled. "You always did notice everything, Varric."

Varric and Hawke shared a nervous glance.

"You’re joking, right!?" Varric shouted, "You’re going to screw your own brother over for what? A lousy idol!?"

"Not just the idol," Bartrand replied, "the location of this thaig alone is worth a fortune! There's no way I'm splitting the profit from that three ways. Sorry, brother!"

"Bartrand!" Varric shouted, and again, when he failed to respond, " _Bartrand_!"

After a long moment of waiting and staring at the door in shock, Varric kicked the door and started shouting invectives.

"I swear, I'll find that sorry son of a bitch-" he paused, "sorry mother- and I will _kill him!_ "

Varric sighed. "Let’s hope there's a way out of here…"

\--

"I'll kill him," Sera declared for the thousandth time.

"Get in line," Varric snapped in reply.

Hawke and Anders trudged ahead. Hawke had the map out and was mumbling and reading it as he walked, while Anders watched the path ahead for darkspawn.

"I'll wring his slimy neck and have him hanged from somewhere in Hightown with a sign that says traitor in big bold letters in three languages- hey, mage, you know Tevinter, right?"

Anders sighed. "Yes, Sera, I know enough Tevene to write 'traitor' on Bartrand's sign."

She clapped. "Perfect! 'TRAITOR' in Tevinter-"

"Tevene."

"And common and- and-"

"I can get Merrill to write it in elvish, I think," Hawke offered.

Sera made a face. "Okay, yeah, sure, whatever. I guess that works-"

Anders yelped excitedly, and bolted forward.

"Anders, wait!" Hawke shouted, chasing after him.

"Can’t you feel it!?" Anders called over his shoulder, "wind!"

Varric gasped. "Wind!?"

A short run later, the four of them were outside and basking in the moonlight.

"Maker's hairy ball sack," Sera sighed, "look at the moon! I thought I'd never get to see it again!"

"We’ll rest here for tonight," Hawke said, flopping onto the ground gracelessly, "and we'll start on our way home tomorrow. How's that sound?"

Sera, Varric, and Anders agreed readily.


End file.
